


I Have Known the Arms Already

by 27dragons



Series: The Love Song of J. Buchanan Barnes [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sub Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3474842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Good. Then I'm going to add this: If <em>you're</em> not ready, you need to tell him that, in those words. Otherwise, stop trying to decide for him what he is and isn't ready for."</p><p>Steve straightened, frowning. "I'm not sure--"</p><p>Dr. Tranh poked a finger into his sternum. She was stronger than her tiny frame would suggest. "I am telling you to stop feeling guilty and sex the boy up so he will stop whining at me about how frustrated he is. There are more productive things we could be spending our time on."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Have Known the Arms Already

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [悉知其臂](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6552832) by [hamLock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamLock/pseuds/hamLock)



Dr. Tranh's waiting area was surprisingly comfortable. Between the wifi password posted on the wall and the eclectic assortment of chairs and ottomans grouped around small tables, it felt more like a small coffee shop than a doctor's waiting area. It wasn't the worst place for Steve to spend an hour or so every week. Usually, he put his earbuds in to make sure he wouldn't be able to overhear Bucky's session, listening instead to whatever music Sam or Tony or Clint had recommended, and spent the time reading on his tablet.

He couldn't focus on the book today, though. Was Bucky telling the doctor about that disastrous incident?

He should be. Of course he should. It had set him back; he'd been merely subdued for the rest of that day, but then the whole next day had been bad, the worst Steve had seen since the day Bucky had first asked for orders. He had refused to talk to Dr. Tranh then, but Steve knew she always asked Bucky about his bad days. And Bucky would tell her. And he _should_ , Steve repeated inwardly. It was important that she know, that she be able to evaluate...

Steve pushed out of his chair and paced the room, stuffing his hands in his pockets to force himself not to fidget. It had been hard enough telling her what they were doing in the first place, imagining the judgment that he was certain lurked beneath her open, professional mask. But now? Now that he'd actually triggered Bucky, caused a panic and needed the safeword? Now, surely, she would tell them that it had become unhealthy, or that it always had been. She would--

The door opened, and Bucky came out looking like he often did after a session with Dr. Tranh: pale and exhausted, but looser, calmer. More centered. He gave Steve a small, wry smile, then stepped aside to reveal that the doctor had followed him into the room.

She was a tiny woman, not even five feet tall, willowy-slender, and seemed very young to Steve. She had waist-length hair, black as ink, usually pulled into a ponytail, and always brushed as smooth as satin. Steve had spent his entire first meeting with her trying to control the urge to touch it, to see if it was as soft as it looked. Today she was wearing baggy jeans and a hoodie sweatshirt and -- he had to look twice -- enormous plush Black Widow slippers. He blinked at them, then looked up to meet her wide grin.

It had taken Steve embarrassingly long to stop expecting her voice and accent to match her Vietnamese features. Dr. Tranh, like Steve and Bucky, had grown up in Brooklyn. "How ya doin' today?" she asked, exaggerating her drawl on purpose because it made Bucky laugh.

Steve tried to smile back. "Okay, I guess. How's Bucky?"

Bucky punched him on the arm, not bothering to pull it. "Bucky is standing right here, asshole. Ask me yourself."

"Right, because you've never lied to me about that," Steve shot back. He didn't let himself rub his arm. The bruise would fade in an hour or so.

Bucky snorted at him but didn't answer, which was answer enough.

Dr. Tranh put her hand on Steve's arm. "Steve, would you come and talk with me for a few minutes, please?"

Steve set his jaw and took a breath. Here it came.

"Gimme your tablet," Bucky said, apparently unconcerned. "I need to feed my dragons."

"You and your weird little games." Steve turned over the tablet, then followed Dr. Tranh back to her office, trying not to feel like a kid being led to the principal's office.

Dr. Tranh's office was just as comfortably random as the waiting room. She waved him to pick a seat as she shut the door. She was taller than Steve by maybe an inch, once he'd sat, but then she sat down, too, close enough that she could reach out and touch him. "So, tell me how things are going at home," she said.

Steve made a face. "I'm sure Bucky told you. About the... incident." Steve could feel his neck heating already. Bucky talked to Dr. Tranh about their relationship with apparent ease, but Steve's few short conversations with her on the topic had been suffused with embarrassment on his part. If they hadn't also been helpful, he would have suspected her of bringing it up just for the amusement factor.

"He did. He thinks you're holding onto some unnecessary guilt about it."

Steve stared at her. That wasn't what he'd expected to hear. "I don't think it's unnecessary," he said. "And aren't you supposed to spend your sessions talking about _him_?"

Dr. Tranh grinned at him again. "You think you're not part of him?" she challenged. "You're his roommate, his best friend, his partner, his commanding officer, his dom, and his lover, and you think he can talk to me about himself without dragging you into it?"

Steve scowled at her. "He doesn't need to worry about how I feel. And we're not lovers."

"Of course you are," she said breezily, dismissing that with a wave of her small hand. "You don't have to be having sex to be lovers. And you should stop that. He cares about you; of course he worries about your feelings. Just like you worry about his."

"He's got bigger problems than--"

"Steven." How such a tiny person could look so fierce, Steve still had no idea. "We have talked about this before, and I am about to go get my mother's ruler to crack your knuckles so you'll listen to me for once. It is _good for him_ to care about the feelings of others. Empathy is important."

Steve managed not to cringe, but it was close. "Yes'm. I mean, I'll try."

"Good." She relaxed back into her chair and crossed her legs, her ridiculous slippers catching Steve's eye again as she bounced her foot in the air. "Try to stop dragging all that guilt around while you're at it. You didn't do anything wrong."

Steve snorted at that. "Sure. Because triggering a flashback was the right thing to do?"

She cocked her head, her dark eyes flashing dangerously. "Were you _trying_ to trigger him?"

"Of course not!"

"Then you didn't do anything wrong. Triggers are going to happen to him. The goal here is not to live a trigger-free life -- if that's what you want, you might as well stick him in an institution. The goal is for him to learn how to handle his reactions safely. And from what he told me, that's exactly what happened. He was triggered, and he tapped out, and you accepted that and helped him through it."

"Because I was the one who--"

"Stop." Dr. Tranh held up a hand to emphasize her point. "He is far from the first submissive I've had in my practice, and I've known that about him since our second session together, so I want you to listen to me: You're taking care of his needs, both physical and mental. You're prioritizing long-term welfare above immediate desires. You're reacting entirely appropriately to his feedback, including requests and safewords. Of course it's not great that he was triggered, but no one's life is perfect. Your reaction to it, your response to the safeword? That was, objectively, a good thing. It confirmed and reinforced the trust he has in you."

Steve couldn't look away. She leaned forward to pat his hand. "You apologized. Excessively, he says. He's forgiven you. You need to let it go now. You're smarter than this."

He grinned weakly. "I might be more stubborn than smart," he said.

"Bullshit. Stop moping; it's not helpful." She grinned back at him, then stood up. "And Steven, do you remember what we said about taking him at face value?"

Steve paused in the act of standing, as well. "Yes?"

"Good. Then I'm going to add this: If _you're_ not ready, you need to tell him that, in those words. Otherwise, stop trying to decide for him what he is and isn't ready for."

Steve straightened, frowning. "I'm not sure--"

Dr. Tranh poked a finger into his sternum. She was stronger than her tiny frame would suggest. "I am telling you to stop feeling guilty and sex the boy up so he will stop whining at me about how frustrated he is. There are more productive things we could be spending our time on."

"Uh--" Out in the waiting room, Steve could hear cackling laughter. Christ, had Bucky been _listening_? The heat on Steve's neck climbed up to his ears. "I'll, uh. Keep that in mind."

Her expression softened somewhat. "Don't do anything _you_ don't feel comfortable with. I don't mean just sex -- I mean the entire thing. It's good that you want to help him, but if you're not getting what you need out of this arrangement, then it's not a good solution, for either of you. Better he find that out now than later."

Steve's stomach clenched. Was that Bucky talking, or Dr. Tranh? "I'm fine," he said firmly.

Her expression said she didn't entirely believe him, but she let it go. She wasn't _his_ therapist, after all. She opened the door and gestured for Steve to precede her. "Thank you for your time," she said easily. She followed him back to the waiting room where Bucky was apparently still absorbed in his silly dragon game. Steve didn't miss the bright red shade of Bucky's ears, though.

He _had_ been listening. Oh, God.

Dr. Tranh shook Steve's hand, her grip firm despite the fact that her hand was half the size of his, then turned to punch Bucky lightly on the arm. "Do your journaling," she said. "Call if you need to."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Bucky said, and Steve could see that he was suppressing a smile. "Nag."

"Damn straight," she returned, grinning openly. "See you next week, so remember all the good stories for me." She shot Steve a final look that he couldn't interpret, then went back to her office.

***

By the time they got back to the apartment, Bucky was practically vibrating in anticipation. Even Steve, who sometimes missed Bucky's more subtle cues, could see that.

So as soon as he'd closed and locked the door, he pointed toward the living room and said, "Go. Knees. Wait."

A shudder ran down Bucky's entire body, his eyes round with surprise. "Yes, _sir_!" he said, already smirking. He all but ran into the living room.

Steve almost felt bad for him.

He took his time shedding his jacket and hanging it, then unlaced his shoes and set them aside with far more deliberation than he'd ever given the task before. He schooled his expression into something neutral, and walked into the living room.

Bucky had taken off his shoes and jacket, but nothing else, and was sitting on his heels in the center of the room, his hands resting carefully on top of his thighs. His head swiveled to watch as Steve came in, and he licked his lips.

Steve went to him immediately and leaned down for a kiss. Bucky sighed into it, and Steve cupped his head in both hands and lingered, teasing at Bucky's lips with his tongue until Bucky stretched up, trying to deepen it. Steve pulled away a bit, leaving one hand at the back of Bucky's head. "I love you, Buck."

Bucky smiled up at him. "Love you too," he said.

Steve returned the smile and brushed his knuckles down Bucky's cheek. "Gonna be good for me?"

Bucky flushed, but didn't look away. "Yeah, Steve. Gonna be so good for you."

Steve kissed Bucky again, brief and sweet. "I know you will." Then he straightened completely and went over to the couch. He sat in his usual spot and picked his sketchbook up off the end table.

Bucky's mouth was gaping open. Steve suppressed a smirk and flipped his book to a blank page.

"Steve?"

"Yeah, Bucky?" Steve held his pencil lightly and started laying down the lightest guiding shapes. He pretended he hadn't noticed Bucky's bewildered and now slightly betrayed expression.

"...Is this spot okay? Enough light?" Bucky finally asked.

"It's fine, thanks." Steve wanted to laugh and settled for a smile.

He drew -- sloppily, not really paying attention to the drawing as much as to its subject -- for almost five minutes before Bucky tried again.

"Stevie, c'mon, what is this?"

"I'm drawing you. Don't wiggle so much."

Bucky stilled obediently, but narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Because you're gorgeous and I like drawing you. Haven't we had this conversation before?"

"You know what I mean, jerk."

Steve had to fight to keep the smirk from his face. "Were you expecting something else?"

" _Yes_ , and you know it!"

"Do I? Why would you be expecting something else?"

"Because the doctor _told_ you to--" Bucky broke off, his eyes widening in realization. "This is punishment for listening in?"

"Partly," Steve agreed, setting his sketchpad and pencil on the table.

Bucky took a slow breath. "Okay," he said. "I probably deserve that. If that's part of it, what's the rest?"

Steve slid to the floor to kneel in front of Bucky, knee-to-knee. "The rest," he said, slowly unbuttoning Bucky's shirt, "is because I'm not going to fuck you just because the doctor said so." He pushed the shirt back over Bucky's shoulders, gently pulled it free. Bucky relaxed into his touch, letting Steve guide every movement. This, over the past weeks, they had practiced, and Steve thought he'd never get enough of Bucky's simple grace.

Steve tossed the shirt aside, then untucked Bucky's undershirt, slipping his fingers beneath the hem to caress skin as he worked the soft cotton up Bucky's torso. He drew it over Bucky's head and arms, and smiled when Bucky's hands fell obediently back to the tops of his thighs. "Do you want to know when I'm going to fuck you?" Steve asked.

Bucky shivered. "Yes. Please."

Steve leaned closer and captured Bucky's mouth in a kiss that didn't even pretend to be chaste or sweet. Steve licked into Bucky's mouth the instant his lips parted, tasting and claiming every inch, biting at Bucky's lips until he gasped and whined.

After a moment, Steve pulled back, breathing hard. Bucky was panting for air, his eyes fixed on Steve's face. "I'm going to fuck you," Steve said, "when I decide it's time to fuck you." He kissed Bucky again, fast and hot. "When _I_ decide," he repeated. "No one else."

Bucky's eyes fell closed and he breathed out a whimper, but the tension in his neck and shoulders melted away.

"Look at me," Steve said. Bucky's eyes opened, wide and wondering. "Say it," Steve insisted.

"When you decide," Bucky said, and swallowed. "Only you."

"Good," Steve said, and he kissed Bucky's cheek, nuzzled at the spot where jaw met ear. Bucky shivered all over, and Steve smiled as he sat back, touching Bucky's face gently. "You're being so good," he praised gently. "I haven't even had to remind you about your hands."

Bucky's fingers twitched against his thighs as if he'd forgotten they were there. "Wanna make you happy," he said.

"You do, Buck," Steve said. "You do." He kissed Bucky again, slower but still hot, and let his hands slide over Bucky's shoulders and chest. He traced soft ridges of scars and the smooth lines of metal plates, played with the faint rasp of chest hair over hard muscle, pinched the pebbles of Bucky's nipples just enough to make Bucky moan into his mouth.

When Steve sat back, Bucky's head was tipped back in surrender, his mouth red and wet and swollen, his eyes wide and dark with desire.

God, Steve loved him.

He'd meant to draw this out, to tease them both with anticipation, to play...

But he'd been waiting for this for weeks, for months, for _decades_ , and hell if he was going to wait longer. He rolled to his feet. "Get up," he said. "Come on."

Bucky didn't smirk when Steve led him into the bedroom. If anything, he looked worried. Steve didn't care for that line between his eyebrows. "You okay, Bucky?"

"Fine," Bucky said, but his voice was tight and pitched high. "Steve, is this-- I'm not pushing, I swear. I just, I need to know, I can't--"

"Yeah, it is," Steve breathed, and slid his arms around Bucky's waist, pressing close to kiss Bucky's neck and shoulders. "Yes. I know; it's okay. I'm going to take care of you."

Bucky laughed shakily and pressed his face into Steve's neck, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist. "Oh, thank God," he breathed. "Steve, Stevie, I'll do anything, whatever you say, but I need you so bad."

"I know, Buck, I know," Steve soothed, dragging his hands over the skin of Bucky's back. "Tell me your color."

Bucky huffed in annoyance, but because rules were rules, he answered, "Green," and then because Bucky was Bucky, he tacked on, "dumbass."

Steve snorted and smacked Bucky's behind, barely enough to sting through the pants he was wearing, but instead of jumping and laughing the way Steve had intended, Bucky hissed and then melted against Steve, boneless as a cat. "More?" he begged.

Steve bit down on his surprise -- pain was another thing Bucky had asked for that Steve hadn't yet decided how he felt about it. He didn't want to stop and figure it out now, either, so he just shook his head and said, "Not this time," and then forestalled Bucky's reaction, whatever it might have been, with, "Get rid of the pants."

That did the trick; Bucky released Steve and was shimmying out of his trousers before the final word had fully passed Steve's lips. Steve grinned, watching as Bucky nearly tripped in his haste and kicked the offending garment to the far side of the room. He shoved his thumbs into his boxers and then hesitated, looking a question at Steve.

Steve nodded. "Those, too."

Bucky heaved a sigh and eased the waistband over his erection, then unceremoniously shoved the boxers the rest of the way off and sent them to join the pants. He turned back to Steve and turned his palms up in a showman's flourish.

Steve laughed and put a hand on the back of Bucky's neck, dragging him closer and kissing him. Bucky leaned into Steve's body easily, moaning into the kiss with artless enthusiasm.

Still kissing, Steve walked Bucky back toward the bed and gently pushed him down to sit on the edge. Bucky dragged his hands up the sides of Steve's legs and started opening Steve's fly.

Steve pushed Bucky's hands gently away. "Not yet," he panted, though his cock was straining against the fabric. He dropped to his knees and started mouthing at Bucky's chest, licking and nibbling until Bucky's hands were clenched fists in Steve's shirt.

"Steve, god, Stevie, what you do to me," Bucky groaned. "Want you, want to touch you. Want your skin under my fingers."

Steve pulled away long enough to strip off his shirt. "Touch, then," he ordered gruffly, his mouth already returning to Bucky's chest. "Waist up."

Bucky made a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan and put his hands on Steve's shoulder blades. The metal hand was cool, the flesh one warm, and the contrast was electrifying.

Steve kissed down Bucky's stomach, and then flickered his tongue across the head of Bucky's cock.

"Jesus, Steve," Bucky gasped. His hand curled into Steve's hair as if he was hanging on for dear life. "Careful; you're gonna knock me over and you ain't even naked yet."

"That's the idea," Steve replied, punctuating his words with more licks and soft nips. "Gonna push you over the edge, leave you trembling and helpless under me." Bucky whined, his hand tightening in Steve's hair, the other moving restlessly against Steve's back. "Gonna take care of you," Steve said, "because you're _mine_." He closed his mouth over Bucky's cock and sucked it halfway down, his hand curling around the base and squeezing just a little as Bucky keened in pleasure.

"Steve, yes, god, please," Bucky gasped. "Steve, Stevie, fuck, feels so good, you're so hot, you look so damn gorgeous, your mouth on me like that. Don't stop, please, I'll beg if I gotta, just don't... _Fuck_ , like that, yes... God, Stevie, feels like... like you're gonna take me apart and spread me out."

Steve groaned around Bucky's cock; he'd always loved it when Bucky talked like this.

"That what you gonna do, Stevie?" Bucky asked. It would've sounded smug if his voice hadn't been so hoarse and gravelly with need, his hands moving restless and frantic over Steve's shoulders and hair and back. "Spread me out and then open me up while I'm still shaking from it. Fill me right to the top until I'm not sure where I end and you start. Feel so-- ah! --so good, baby, so good, please, god, I, I wanna-- nnng, _god_ , please! Gonna be so good for you, wanna feel you in me. I need, need to-- Please, Stevie, ohgod, god, baby, just like that, just like, don't stop, don't, god. _God_ , I'm gonna-- Steve, I'm gon-- ahhh _aaaaa--_ "

The stream of Bucky's words shut off a split second before he came, shooting hot and hard into the back of Steve's mouth. Steve swallowed hard, and licked the remnant off Bucky's cock just to hear the way he whimpered, oversensitive and overstimulated.

Bucky fell back onto the bed, panting and gasping. Steve stood up to shed the rest of his clothes, then manhandled Bucky further up onto the mattress. Bucky found his voice again while Steve was fishing in his bedside table for lube. "God, Steve, that was... I may not be able to get it up again for a week."

Steve snorted. "Liar." He tossed the lube onto the bed, then looked over his shoulder at Bucky. "Condom?"

Bucky rolled his eyes, even as he lifted a hand wearily to pet at Steve's arm and shoulder. "No."

Steve shut the drawer. "Just checking." He leaned over to kiss Bucky, slow and thorough. "Mmm. Still green?"

"Fuck, yes. I have been begging you to fuck me for a month now," Bucky said. "Get on with it."

Steve chuckled and settled himself between Bucky's knees. "Your mouth still recovers pretty fast, I see," he observed neutrally, even as he slicked his fingers.

"Should give me something to do with it, then," Bucky suggested, smirking.

"Maybe I'll just give you something to think about," Steve returned, pressing a finger into Bucky's body.

Bucky's breath hitched and his back arched off the bed, but before Steve could ask whether it had been too fast or rough, Bucky sighed out, " _Yes_."

Steve pressed in further, and then leaned up to cover Bucky's mouth, swallowing Bucky's sounds, feeling them like a warm vibration in his chest. He added a second finger, and Bucky actually squeaked, but when Steve started to pull out, Bucky shook his head quickly, twisting away to gasp, "Green green green, Stevie, don't stop, _god_ , don't stop."

"Thought I was the one giving the orders, here." Steve pushed back in and twisted, and Bucky whimpered and arched up off the bed again.

"Fu-huck, baby, please, please, wasn't orderin', swear I wasn't. Just… Just hopin'. Beggin', okay? Please, Jesus, Steve, god, don't stop, _please_."

Steve laughed a little, but then he was watching Bucky, as if for the first time, and feeling simply awed.

Bucky was babbling a mile a minute, all self-consciousness gone, all inhibition lost, sweet nothings and filthy suggestions and breathless pleading. He was hard again, and writhing, hands twisting aimlessly in the sheets or reaching for Steve's skin only to fall away again a moment later. His hips jerked roughly as he tried to push back, fucking himself on Steve's fingers. His eyes were wide and trusting, fixed on Steve's face, and then fluttering closed, squeezing tight shut against a sudden burst of sensation. He was _beautiful_. And it was Steve who had done that to him -- _for_ him.

That realization jolted down Steve's spine, shivering into his stomach until he had to grab the base of his dick with his free hand and squeeze hard to keep from coming on the spot. "God, I love you," Steve breathed.

Bucky's eyes opened again and he smiled up at Steve, reached up to cup Steve's jaw and pull him down for another kiss, sweet and tender despite the urgency of the moment. "Love you, too," Bucky sighed. Then he tipped his head back and gritted out, "Now, please, _fuck me_."

Steve laughed and kissed Bucky's bare throat, wanting to leave a mark but not wanting to take the time to do it. "Third finger, first?" he suggested, making a question of it, giving Bucky the choice.

Bucky made a huffing sound and shook his head. "Want to be tight," he said. "Want the burn."

Steve hesitated, then nodded, pulling his hand free. "Okay. You'll tell me if it's too much?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Bucky." Steve stopped, holding position over Bucky, looking down sternly. "Rules. You will tell me. If you need me to back off."

" _Yes_ ," Bucky muttered irritably, "I'll tell you! You are such a mother hen. I'm not that breakable."

Steve grinned and lined up, pushing just lightly against Bucky's entrance, teasing, not letting the squirming of Bucky's hips pull him in. "Maybe," he conceded, "but you don't value yourself near as high as I do. You're prepared to hurt and heal, but I'm protecting what's _mine_."

Bucky shuddered at that and then lunged up to capture Steve's mouth in a fiery kiss. "God, Rogers," he groaned, "get _in_ me."

Steve pushed forward, moving slowly, teasing as much as trying to ease Bucky's discomfort. Bucky's body was searing hot, and so _tight_. Steve wondered if he should have insisted on a third finger after all, but Bucky's expression was pure bliss. "Wha'dya think, Buck," Steve said, pitching his voice low, "you gonna come from me fucking you like this?"

Bucky whined as Steve bottomed out. He took a moment to make a mark on Bucky's neck, sucking and licking and biting until he felt Bucky's cock pulsing against his stomach.

"Stevie," Bucky whispered, "baby, Steve, please, please, baby, please."

Steve licked at Bucky's lips. "Gonna be good for me, Bucky?"

"So good, so good, Stevie, want to be good for you." Bucky's eyes were on his now, a little wild and desperate but still so trusting that Steve almost wanted to cry.

"You are, Bucky, you're doing so good," Steve promised. "Hang on, can you do that? Wait for me?"

"Hang..." Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve's neck. "Y-yeah, I can hang on. Move, please move, Stevie, I'm waiting, I promise, I just... Please, Steve, I need you to move."

God, _god_ , he was beautiful.

Steve pulled out, almost entirely, and then pushed back in, and Bucky moaned. "Yes, _yes_." Again, smoother, and then again, until he was driving into Bucky fast and hard, sweat rolling from his temples and over his shoulders, Bucky's grip on his neck sliding and Bucky's words dissolved into incoherent moaning.

It was over all too fast. Steve's balls pulled tight and heat like fire curled his toes and began to crawl up his legs. He fought it, gasped into Bucky's hair, "Come for me, Bucky, come for me now, now, sweetheart, you've been so good, come now."

Bucky's hold on Steve tightened and he let out a handful of whimpering breaths and then his whole body tightened as he came.

The clench around Steve's cock was almost unbearable; he thrust into it and that heat exploded out from his center and the world went white.

He collapsed onto Bucky, unable to move. Bucky was panting for air, but didn't protest. After a moment, Steve gathered enough strength to pull carefully out of Bucky and roll to the side. He fought for another few breaths, then turned his head to look at Bucky.

Bucky's right arm was thrown over his face, only his lower lip and chin visible.

"Buck?" Steve asked. "You okay?"

Bucky huffed again. "No. No, I am not 'okay'." He moved the arm -- not so much moving it as letting it flop to the side -- and turned his head to look back at Steve, smirking. "That was _amazing_ , and I feel _great_." He snorted. "Am I okay. Jesus."

Steve smiled and curled his arm around Bucky's middle, tugging him closer. "Jerk."

"Punk," Bucky returned lazily, curling onto his side and resting his head on Steve's shoulder. "And 'sweetheart'? What the hell?"

Steve snorted. " _Baby_?" he drawled.

Bucky grumbled. "Fuck you." He snuggled closer, slinging his arm around Steve.

Steve grinned and kissed the top of Bucky's head, damp with sweat. "Love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> I admit, I may be just a tiny bit in love with Dr. Tranh.
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [everyworldneedslove](http://everyworldneedslove.tumblr.com/)!


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